Violent Streak?

Here's a disturbing little story. . .

The other morning Harper was playing with several of her stuffed animals. She has a little lamb which is also a sort of music box. When you wind it up the music for "Jesus Loves Me" plays and the lamb's head tilts back and forth. It's very sweet. So Harper asked me to turn the lamb on, which I happily did. Then, as it was playing away on the ottoman, she put her hand in her pink bunny purse like it was a puppet, walked over, and slammed it into the lamb, knocking it over.

How do I have a picture of this? Did I happen to have my camera out at that exact moment? Oh no, Harper was so delighted with herself, she repeated this little act about fifteen times. After each time she cried triumphantly, "Ah knock amba!"


I hear therapy calling. . .

A+ For Knowing What She Needs

Today Harper was playing in the living room and Matt was sitting nearby, reading the paper. Harper tripped over her slipper, or a toy, or thin air and fell on the hard floor, bonking her forehead. She started to cry and Matt picked her up to comfort her. Through her tears she looked down and said, "Wok," she wanted to sit in the rocking chair. Then she managed, still crying, to choke out, "Ah need mik," she wanted the cup of milk off of the coffee table. Finally, she demanded, "Sing kinka," wanting Matt to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," to her. Then she stopped crying and felt better.

And you thought they didn't come with instructions!

Posting is an Excellent Form of Procrastination

Last week was a very productive week for me, school-wise. Do you want to know why? My mother was here! And since she was here, there was another human being to tend to Harper's every waking need. I got to spend one entire day studying and working, and somehow that felt like a luxury. Also, there was one day that my mom got up with Harper and I slept in until about 9:30. That, my friends, is better than winning the lottery.

My mother is not here this week and there has been a marked decline in both the amount of work I've accomplished and the hours of sleep I've gotten. Mom, any chance you could just, like, move in for the next year or so? Just checking.

We were still swimming in buy-one-get-one admissions from The Boonshoft, so we did spend a morning there with my mom. Harper enjoyed:

1) Driving Mugga around in a pretend truck.


2) Eating plastic vegetables in the log cabin.


3. And playing with Mugga in the box full of (I'm guessing) tire shreds, which looked remarkably like soil.



We also visited the slide, color wall, water works, a tree house, and the "Wild Ohio" zoo -- which has some cool animals. Albino alligator anyone? Maybe it was a crocodile. I'll double check next time we go. You know how most zoos are basically outdoors? There's a good reason for that! Wild Ohio is completely indoors and thus pretty stinky. Fortunately this didn't seem to keep Harper from enjoying local favorites like a fox and turtles. And really, who is she to hold being stinky against anyone?

Pumpkin Patch

On Saturday, Harper went with Matt to get "a pumpkin" from a garden center/nursery near here. Sadly, I'm not even sure exactly where it is they went. (I am not clued in on many of the trip's details, as I was in my Cataloging and Classification class. I know, I know, you really wish you could take that class too, just for fun.)

While Matt didn't seem like he was chomping at the bit to be a guest blogger and write about their experiences, he did take lots of pictures. Apparently Harper was most interested in the cute little pumpkins. Think the toy category of the dog show, just apply it to produce.




Matt did convince her to pick one (barely) larger pumpkin.


He took it upon himself to bring home one decent-sized pumpkin which, in theory, we will actually scoop out and carve. We'll see.

Last year I went as far as making Harper a poodle costume, as in cutting out a pattern and sewing it. I believe this was some kind of attempt to prove, if only to myself, that I would not let my aversion to Halloween ruin my daughter's childhood. We did not go as far as to carve a pumpkin. This year, since she can actually say pumpkin, we thought we might give it a try.

I have somewhat fond memories of gathering around our kitchen table as children, attempting to keep the pumpkin guts on the newspapers that had been spread out, and trying to communicate our elaborate design details to Dad, who did most of the carving when we were little. Mom was nearby, groaning if we begged for her to save and roast the pumpkin seeds. I am quite sure I always promised I'd eat them, and they probably never tasted quite as good as I seemed to imagine they would. I still remember the smell of pumpkin soaked newspaper and roasting seeds. And I remember the way the pumpkins never quite looked the way you'd imagined when you were finished. Although, for me, that's true of most any kind of visual art. I'm more with the words and not so much with, well, anything that requires manual dexterity.

Perhaps Harper will astonish us with both her coordination and artistic genius and carve her own pumpkin. With a safety knife of course.

We're Still Here!

Have you missed us?

Here are some photos of sweet Harper to tide you over:

Back at Boonshoft

Stuffed Animal Avalanche

Picking Pumpkins

More content soon, I promise. The management thanks you for your patience!

Friends

For a long time I have been meaning to post about Harper and her good friend Dana. I've mentioned Dana before, she is Harper's BFF, if you can have such a thing before age two. Several times in the past year, Harper and I have gone to Dana's house for play days. This has always been a nice chance for the girls to have some playtime, as well as an opportunity for Andrea and I to have some mom-to-mom time.

About a month ago we decided to try something new, Dana would come over to our house to play, but Andrea wouldn't stay. . . At first I was a little nervous about my ability to handle the two of them at once, which seems a little silly as I have successfully managed as many as 25 children in the past. The difference being, those children weren't toddlers!

Our first play day went beautifully. Without feeling a need to compete with the attention Andrea and I usually gave each other, the girls barely noticed I was there. They played with dolls, colored, danced, and had a great time. It was one of the easiest parenting mornings I'd had since Harper started walking.



Our second play day, a couple of weeks later, wasn't quite as smooth. Harper was going through a possessive phase (one of many, I'm guessing) and followed Dana around saying, "No way, Deeda!" whenever Dana attempted to pick up one of Harper's toys. Not so relaxing for me, as I ended up feeling like a referee for the first hour or so. Eventually the girls settled into playing nicely and did enjoy each other's company.



Well today we had the family play day to end all play days! Matt, Harper, and I met Dana and her parents at the Boonshoft Museum of Discovery here in Dayton.

The girls had a blast! For the first forty-five minutes, they shopped in the grocery/general store. They probably would have stayed in there all afternoon, but we'd never taken Harper to Boonshoft before and we were hoping to see a little more of the place.


One of our next stops was the water table. Despite not being tall enough to reach many of the boats and other water toys, Harper and Dana found a way to get their hands in the water and get plenty wet!

The other place we spent a great deal of time was the "color wall." This is a three-sided room with a silvery wall across from a large screen. There is funky music playing and, as you move in front of the wall, some kind of light magic goes to work, projecting your imagine on the screen. The types of images rotate, but it mostly looks like a combination shadow/screen saver/laser show/kaleidoscope. I have no idea how it works, but the effect is very cool.

The best was when Harper started running in circles around Dana, the image on the screen made Dana's shadow look like it was surround by what Harper would look like if she turned into a human slinky. Groovy.

Dads and Daughters Dance in Front of the Wall

Harper and Daddy

Harper and Dana

Somehow Auntie M ended up with a bunch of buy one/get one free admission tickets to Boonshoft, so you can bet we'll be back again soon!

Post-Nap Surprise

With all the excitement over the new potty training development, I nearly forgot to post about the wonderful surprise I found upon going to retrieve Harper from her afternoon nap.


She was so excited that she actually started running in place in her crib. "Ah pu shoks on hans!" she cried. Clearly, Harper thought no one before her in the entire history of the world had ever come up with such an idea. This means only one thing. I must commence sock puppet shows immediately, as she has been painfully under-exposed to this true art form. Socks on hands indeed!


Not only was Harper thrilled to have her socks on her hands, she was also delighted to discover there were "ABCs" on the bottom of the socks.

Recently, Harper has become more aware of letters in her environment. No matter how many times I tell her, "Yes, those are let-ters," she persists in pointing to any string of letters and proclaiming, "ABCs!" Which I suppose will do for now. And I guess it's too early to expect her to differentiate letters from numbers. . . That'll give us something to shoot for on the way to birthday number three.

Big News!

Drum roll please. . .


Harper went "number two" in her potty seat! Hooray! This is a big accomplishment in the world of potty training. It was the size of a chocolate chip, but still an accomplishment. Harper sat on the potty, looked up at me, and said, "Ah poop!"

See how proud?

The very best part was that we were sitting at the dinner table and she looked up and told us she had to go potty. This has never happened before. In the past she's only gone in the potty seat when we've changed her diaper and asked her if she needed to go. Perhaps we can hope she is developing some awareness of how everything down there works. Diapers, your days are numbered!

P.S. We'd also like to announce that, as you can see in the above pictures, Harper's hair is now long enough to pull it up on top of her head, Cindy Lou Who style. I believe this is a vast improvement over our first attempts at hair styling. Watch for this look to hit Paris runways soon.

Christmas Came Early

So Harper may have a little teeny, tiny, obsessive streak in her personality. This is shocking. . . I have no idea where she could possible have gotten that! Anyhow, one of her current favorite obsessions is Blue's Clues, which is mildly unfortunate, as we do not have the cable channel that carries that particular show. On second thought, it's probably a good thing, since having that channel might mean that our entire day would revolve around the Blue's Clues schedule.

By now you are probably wondering how Harper became obsessed with a show on a channel that isn't beamed directly into this house. It began with a video from the public library (Did you know your library has videos and DVD's? They're free, please use your local library!). Then I found a $5/multiple-episode DVD at a discount store. Jackpot! Blue is the best thing since Elmo, which we still enjoy very much. It is nice to have a child obsessed with more than one character, which saves me from watching the same thing over and over again.

If you are not familiar with Blue's Clues, Blue is a very sweet, non-verbal dog. Blue's owner/companion Joe (or Steve, on older episodes) plays a game called Blue's Clues to figure out what Blue wants to eat/do/draw/play etc. The episodes consist of Joe, Blue, and friends traipsing around, looking for clues, and discussing color, shapes, sharing, and other preschool- friendly topics along the way. The show is extremely formulaic and predictable, which is why my little OCD monkey loves it so much. In fact, next to "Twinkle, Twinkle," Harper's most requested songs while driving in the car are those featured during Blue's adventures. She likes the theme song, the mail song, the good-bye song, you get the idea.

So why the title, "Christmas Came Early" for this post? Recently Auntie M's sister hit the jackpot at her local Goodwill store and purchased, for $1, a play-along TV set for Blue's Clues. The set came with a little plush Blue, three felt paw prints/clues, and one "Handy Dandy Notebook" with wipe off crayon. I thought Harper's head was going to explode with joy when she discovered these items yesterday morning. Her favorite being the "ha dadee otbook!"

Here's how you play Blue's Clues:

1. Hunt for felt paw prints which Mommy has hidden. Find them!


2. "Write" about the clues in your handy dandy notebook. This takes a long time.



3. Sit down in your thinking chair and think, think, think. Just like on the show. Consider all three clues to figure out what Blue wants. This is serious business.


4. I don't have photographic representation of the last step, but it basically involves jumping up and saying, "We just figured out Blue's Clues!" You also proclaim your infinite smartness. After celebrating and singing the good-bye ditty, Mommy gets to help you do the whole thing over again.

While the game may be a little boring for me, I can tell that this is going to provide fabulous entertainment for crummy/wintry/rainy days like today. In fact, I got Harper to go down for her nap by saying that we could play Blue's Clues when she gets up. I never thought I would be so grateful for television tie-in merchandise.

Daddy's Girl

It seems that Harper is becoming more of a daddy's girl with every passing day. She is interested in everything he does. And by everything I mean the girl is fascinated by the fact that he goes to the bathroom standing up. Sorry kiddo, you're not going to have any luck with that one.

Harper and Matt like to wrestle, tickle, and engage in throwing-around-in-the-air activities that I am not so great at. They are particularly skilled at enjoying baths and games of the "let's get all riled up before bed" nature. You can occasionally catch them doing something a little more mellow, like watching football, together.


One day last week while I was, ahem, indisposed, Harper managed to pull nearly all of Matt's ties off of a hanger in the closet. We both lacked the patience to hang them all back up at that point in time, so Harper and I put them into a nearby laundry basket.

Flash-forward to the following morning, Harper and I are lounging in bed watching Curious George when she decides to further investigate those ties. She fished one out of the basket wrapped it around her neck and said, "Ah go wok(work) now!" Then she came over to kiss me and said, "Bye-bye, swee (sweetie?). Too!"

(If I have not explained this before now, "Too!" Is Harper's way of saying I love you. Apparently Matt and I say,"I love you, too," to one another fairly often; Harper picked it up and just can't be bothered with all those extra words.)

When I had finished cracking up, Harper let me "tie" the tie around her neck.


She spent much of the morning wearing that tie, clomping around in a pair of Matt's shoes, saying, "Ah be Daddy!"


Just wait until he gets her on a basketball court! I can already feel my influence waning.

Null and Void

Does the bath still count. . .




After the dog gets in the tub?!

One Year Later. . .

I have brought it to my own attention that I have been posting to this blog for nearly one year. Considering the fact that I wasn't sure I'd last a month, I'm pretty darn proud that soon I will have persisted in self-publishing my mostly mindless prattle for 365 days. I keep you coming back with cute pictures of the kid. What was the world like before digital cameras?



So, as the blog-birthday approaches, I am wondering some things:

1) Who are you? I know that Erin, my dad, my sister, my brother, my mom, and Dotto read this pretty regularly. There are a few others who check in at least once in a while. Do I have any "lurkers" out there? People who read, but never, ever say anything to me about it, whether by leaving a comment or telling me in person.

2) Would you like to read more or less about Harper's poop? I'm just asking. I actually have a lot to say on the subject, but I try to refrain from commenting on it too often. Some people eat meals in front of their computers, I respect that.

3) Does anyone know of a way I can archive this for the kid, the main person I write for, who may want to read it someday? I live in constant fear that computer programs I like are going to a) simply stop existing, or b) start charging for things I used to be able to do for free. I guess I could cut and paste all the entries into a word document, but that's kind of boring. I'm open to suggestions.

4) Do you have a favorite post? For example, if I was going to put a little "highlight" reel together, what would I include?

And now for a public service announcement:

Beware of Quaker Oatmeal Squares cereal! Harper is obsessed with the stuff. She covets it more than anything, including cookies. If I am foolish enough to ask her what she wants to eat she says, "see-al pease, see-al!" A request which lately has been followed up with, "Ah nee mik!" She needs milk? Use your manners child! Oh well, at least she says please for the cereal.

I'm well aware that it could be worse, she could be asking me for frosted pop tarts, chocolate chip cookies, ice cream, candy. . . But high-fiber oatmeal cereal it is! And since she's not asking for candy, I'm likely to give her what she wants. Unfortunately she'd rather eat cereal than anything else, which is starting a trend toward even less variety in her diet. If only I could figure out a way to get some veggies into the cereal squares, then we'd be in business.

To Write or Not to Write?

I have never written much, even in personal journals, about September 11th. Not unlike many of us, I find myself reflecting and remembering in a different way this year, the fifth anniversary of the attacks on our country.

I was lucky that day, I didn't lose a family member or friend in New York, D.C., or Pennsylvania. My father was flying that morning, but he took off from somewhere in Texas and landed abruptly in Oklahoma (I believe) when planes were grounded. He rented a car with another business traveler and arrived home significantly later than planned, but safe. I find myself truly unable to imagine what this day must be like for the thousands of people who experienced a personal loss on that day which changed us all.


I watched some of the news programs this morning, but eventually I had to turn them off because I kept being overwhelmed by tears. It was unsettling to Harper, who looked at me quizzically. When I think about the fact that someday she'll ask me about all of it, my heart catches in my throat. There are some "whys?" I just don't have any answers for.


On September 11, 2001 I was not a mother. I was engaged, but not yet married. In the first few days following the attacks, I sincerely wondered whether either of those things would ever happen. I was scared. Thinking months, years into the future seemed almost foolish. What kind of future could I hope for in a world where things could go so terribly wrong?


Around the time the first plane hit the World Trade Center, I was conducting reading groups in my first grade classroom. I found out about the attacks after I walked the children to their gym class. I turned on the television in my room, watching about half an hour of news coverage, then turned off the television and picked up my class. I couldn't cry. I couldn't seem scared. By then the children could tell something was going on. When they asked questions, I told them some airplanes had crashed and many people were hurt. We said a prayer. I assured them we were safe at school and we went about our day the best that we were able.

Late that afternoon there was a sonic boom that could be heard throughout the Dayton area. As you can imagine, it scared us all. The following day at school, that is what all the children talked about. We sat in a circle on the rug and they all told about where they were when they heard the noise. Some of them ran outside with their families, some were called in. They didn't really understand what had happened to our country and they were very nervous. I repeatedly told them, they were safe, our school was safe, their parents were safe, although I wasn't entirely sure that was true. After our two hour "circle time," on September 12, we pretty much returned to business as usual. With six- and seven-year-olds, there was no other choice. But for a long time I saw fear in their eyes at any loud noise, a siren, a door slamming, thunder.


For months after 9/11 I had nightmares about bombs and planes. I had trouble sleeping and eating. I was scared to be alone. I looked for an airplane every time I heard one, watching for any signs that it was flying too low, that something was wrong. The noise of a plane overhead still makes my heart skip a little, sends a shadow through my thoughts.

I am not as scared as I was in the weeks and months following 9/11, but I am still scared. I see all the terrible things in the world, terrorism, war, poverty, disaster, and I wonder what kind of place this is for my daughter to grow up in. I sometimes wonder if we were wrong to bring a child into this uncertain world. How can any of us hope to be happy in a world where so many things are wrong? And then I look at her.


Harper reminds me that the world is also full of hope and wonder and love. She helps me remember to find happiness right here while we have it. I have a beautiful family and amazing friends. I have so much love in my life. I laugh some, every day, even the difficult ones. While I will always feel sorrow on this dark anniversary, I will also try to remember how the country came together in those following days. I will remember to have hope, to be kind, to love. And do my little part to leave the world, at least this part of it, better than it might have been without me.

Welcome to the House of Nast

Nast was our way of saying "nasty" or "gross" in college. Just in case some of you couldn't make that mental leap on your own. And if that isn't enough to keep you from reading on, well, that's your own darn fault.


(Just a little photo to distract from the nast to follow.)

So we have kind of a long-running joke in our house in which anytime Matt asks what's for dinner or if I'll make a snack, and I ask him what he wants, he answers, "A pork chop!" Now pork chops aren't actually difficult to prepare, and we usually have some in the freezer, but I am not a fan of microwave defrosting (for no explicable reason) so I don't find pork chops to be a spur of the moment food. Anyway, I decided yesterday that I'd actually humor Matt and make pork chops for dinner. I went down to our freezer in the basement and two things happened when I opened it:

1) I reached for a pork chop and thought, "Huh, it shouldn't be soft. . . "

2) I was simultaneously nearly knocked over by the smell of rancid meat that was coming from our freezer which had apparently stopped freezing. Eeeewwww!

I regained enough sense to close the door but that smell followed me all the way upstairs and seemed to linger in the shirt I was wearing. I say this with no sarcasm or disrespect intended: Smelling the smell from that freezer gave me a teeny tiny insight into what life in New Orleans (and other devastated areas) must have been like after the hurricane last year. I cannot fathom being surrounded by a smell worse than the one I experienced last night.

Needless to say, we did not have pork chops for dinner. And we had to throw out probably $100 worth of spoiled food (that could have been much worse). Matt cleaned most of it out, as I was still recovering from unknowingly sticking my face into that nonsense. (As I am typing this, I swear the smell is still lingering in my nostrils.)

That was only nast thing number one.

Number two came during dinner. I was telling Matt that Harper ate a decent-sized, relatively healthy lunch: most of a banana, some applesauce, a cheese stick, raisins, and some Quaker Oatmeal cereal. He looked at me like I was crazy and swore off changing any more diapers that evening. Just as I was saying it wouldn't be that bad, I become acutely aware of how vigorously Rebound was licking Harper's chair. He often hovers when she eats and laps up stray crumbs, so I wasn't concerned about this at first. Then I realized he was really going after something and I wondered what it was. I looked down and saw a dark spot at least five inches in diameter on the leg of Harper's pants. There had, in fact, been a diaper explosion of epic proportions.

It was so nast that, despite my best efforts to avoid making things worse, it got smeared down her entire leg. Matt gave Harper a bath while I spent a good fifteen minutes trying to save the pants, I'll spare you those details.

The freezer, sadly, has reached the end of its working days. But the pants are stain-free (thank you, Baby All) and the basement now smells more like Pine-Sol than rancid meat. Things are looking up.

Last Hurrah

As our goodbye to summer, Matt and I decided to take Harper to Cox Arboretum for the morning.


Labor Day happened to be the last day the Butterfly House was scheduled to be open. Unfortunately many of the butterflies weren't in flight yet because their wings were still wet from the dew. Harper was still able to enjoy the late summer flowers and bugs, which she enthusiastically pointed out to us.


There were many huge caterpillars in the Butterfly House, which were right at Harper's eye level. And we did find at least one winged friend for her to say hello to. I'm not sure, but it might have been a moth? No worries, it still looked like a "buseye" to Harper.


As much as Harper enjoyed the bugs, "sours," and "buseyes," her favorite part was the little waterfall.


Oh yes, it looks like we perched our baby precariously on the edge of a rock above running water, but it's all about camera angles. Matt was only inches away.



Harper was very happy from her rocky perch. Matt made some joke about getting in the water and it was all we could do to keep her from jumping in. She was all set to take her shoes off and go swimming. Harper was not at all happy when we walked away from that area.

After the arboretum, we headed up to Alter High School for AlterFest. We bought a string of tickets, let the high school kids ooh and aah while Harper cheated at carnival games, and came home with an armful of lovely prizes (read: junk). Most of the games involved Harper throwing things, so she was quite happy. Next year she'll be more aware and we'll likely have to stand in line for an hour to let her ride a motorized elephant or strawberry or some other nonsense. We thought about getting in line for a ride this time, and then we remembered that Harper is totally unaware of the fact that she could possible get on those things! Having a child who is only nearing age two does have some advantages.